


Airships

by Calvi_sama



Series: Ghosts [2]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4786331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calvi_sama/pseuds/Calvi_sama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is intended to be a sequel to <i>Ghosts</i>, a piece written from Vincent's point of view.  This piece is subsequently written from <i>Cid's</i> point of view and occurs an indeterminate length of time after the events in <i>Ghosts</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Airships

“Vincent?”  The question came out before I could stop it.

There was no reply, which was typical.  It almost seemed like he didn’t hear me.  I suppose I could have let it go at that, but that wasn’t in my nature.  Once I cracked a door, I tended to go through it.  Mouth first.  “Vincent?  Dammit Vincent, I have a _right_ to know!” I said, my temper flaring as brightly, and as briefly, as the tip of the lit cigarette clamped in between my teeth.  Still Vincent did not reply.

We sat outside the small house that we shared in what was left of Rocket Town.  It was, in fact, the house I had shared with Shera when Cloud and company had shown up and changed our lives.  Somehow, it had survived the taking off of Shinra 26… barely.  Vincent sat on the front steps of the porch I’d added, and was meticulously cleaning one of his many handguns, and I had parked it in a rickety old rocking chair to Vincent’s right.

“Are you even listenin’ t’ me?” I said in exasperation, noticing the thick quality to my voice with a sinking feeling.  It usually happened before an argument.  Kind of like a smoking tail rudder leads to an airship crash.  I leaned forward and thumped my heavy boots down onto the faded wood of the porch, a rather blatant attempt at getting Vincent’s attention since just opening my mouth didn’t seem to do a good enough job.  “Huh?”

“You have no right,” Vincent said quietly, continuing his cleaning and not looking up.

I blinked, surprised and yet not at the answer, but I wasn’t going to let it stop me.  “Th’ _hell_ I don’t!” I replied rather loudly, getting abruptly to my feet.  I clomped over to Vincent and down on the stairs to stand somewhat eye-level with the quiet ex-Turk.  “I think I got _some_ right when y’ moved in with me!  When we-” I trailed off, unwilling or perhaps un _able_ to give voice to something that was so intimate and special.

“Started sleeping together?” Vincent filled in nonchalantly, finally glancing up, but only briefly, to make eye contact.  “And how does that give you the right?” he asked as his attention returned to the handgun.  I thought it might have been Peacemaker.  I felt the nose of the airship take an alarming dip down.

What a loaded question, I thought as I stood there and spluttered for a moment, searching for the best words to use to answer Vincent’s question.  “Since I-” I chewed on my cigarette and rubbed the back of my neck angrily.  “Well since I started lovin’ ya!” I snapped and it took quite a bit of will power to keep from flinching.  I don’t exactly go around telling other men that I loved them, but Vincent was different.  Oh man was he different.  “S’what people do when they love each other, innit?  Friends tell each other th’ things that’re bothin’ em!”  Yuck.  It was hard to enter that touchy-feely territory that women seemed to thrive in, but somehow I don’t think arm-wrestling Vincent or chest bumping him would have the same effect.

“Is that how you love me then?  As a friend?” Vincent asked mildly, again not looking up, his motions smooth and fluid. 

I released a vile curse that would have had mortified Shera had she been there.  Loss of altitude, pull up!  Pull up!  “Don’t you turn this back around on me ya stupid, stubborn sonofabitch!” I said angrily.  Belatedly I got the feeling that I was digging a big old hole I wasn’t going to want to fall into. 

It was almost like I was watching myself from somewhere outside as I reached out, meaning to grab Vincent’s shoulder only to have Vincent grab my wrist instead, quick as a snake.  Ouch!  _God_ that was a grip!  I ground my teeth but didn’t fight the gunman’s unbreakable hold.  I knew better.  I may be stupid in a lot of ways, but I know that when a behemoth gets a hold of you, you didn’t fight back.  They tended to bite harder.

“Dammit Vincent,” I gritted out, the emotion I felt making my voice shake.  Yep, airship crash was imminent.  “I watch ya suffer.  I see th’ way ya look at me and for th’ life ‘o me I can’t figure out why ya won’t tell me!”

“Because it’s none of your business, Cid,” Vincent replied matter-of-factly.  His voice was gentle, but his grip was hard, just shy of painful.  “And I would think that by now you would have enough respect for me to desist these constant questions.”

I shook my head.  You’d think Vincent would have caught on by now just how stubborn I was, but then I wasn’t the only stupid one here, was I?  “What do I have t’ do to make ya understand that it’s _because_ I respect ya that I wanna know?  I wanna _help_ you!”

Vincent stared at me for several minutes, his face completely unreadable and his red eyes, those gorgeous, hypnotizing red eyes that could make me give him anything, were cold.  Finally, he released my wrist to return to his cleaning.  That would leave a bruise, I thought, but I didn’t rub the sore spot.  That seemed disrespectful somehow, almost like a sign of weakness.  “And what makes you think that I want your help?”

I grinned, but it had a cruel edge to it.  I wasn’t in the mood to coddle him, cater to his insecurities like I had for so long.  Mercy, it seemed, was in short supply today.  “I see it,” I hissed.  “When ya look at me.  Yer so damned close to spillin’ it, but then it’s like somethin’ stops ya and y’ clam up tighter’n a lugnut on an airship wing!”  I leaned in and got in Vincent’s personal space, right up in his face so he _had_ to look at me.  “What’s in there that’s scarin’ ya s’ bad?”

“Your death,” Vincent replied.  The answer just slipping free.

I reckon he couldn’t have done a better job of shutting my mouth if he’d kicked me in the balls.

“M’ what?” I said stupidly, pulling back, hell, even taking a _step_ back.

“You heard me,” Vincent said, that amazing, deep voice of his nearly a whisper. 

“So ya got some kinda clairvoyance now, s’ that it?” I said.  Yep, throwing gasoline to put out a fire there, Highwind, good job.

Vincent had returned to his cleaning, but his movements were no longer fluid and graceful.  His hands appeared to be shaking.  “I didn’t tell you because if I did then, they would kill you.  But now you know so…”

I was speechless, which is truly a rare thing.  The confession had frightened Vincent, badly.  The gunman was distracted now, anxious and twitchy.  For something to upset the normally stoic, unflappable Vincent Valentine so badly was something I could not take lightly, and I won’t lie: it scared the living shit out of me.  Clearing my throat, I climbed the stairs to sit next to Vincent, sitting my ass down slowly and carefully.  “Who’s gonna kill me, honey?” I asked softly.  For once in my life treading delicately.  Shera would be so proud. 

Vincent shook his head and refused to answer. 

I reached out and gently laid my hands over Vincent’s trembling ones, stilling the repetitive motions.  Those shaking hands were probably one of the hardest things to see and that image will be with me until the day I die.  “Y’ said it yourself, Vincent.  I already know.  Now finish it.”  Oh look, there’s the ground.

“I keep having the same dreams,” Vincent said, his voice shaking a little.  “They always start out with you stomping off in a fit of temper after slamming the door.”

Sounds like me, I thought.  “Go on, honey.”  I urged softly.  “Keep goin’.”

“Then someone knocks on it, the door I mean, and I thought you had come back to apologize.”

 _Yeah, I never could stay mad at’cha_ , my brain supplied before I told the dammed thing to be quiet and squeezed the hand that rested over Vincent’s in a silent encouragement to continue.

“But it wasn’t you,” Vincent whispered.  “It was Lucrecia.”

Oh yeah, that was a name I did _not_ need to hear.  Of all the people in the world that had ever pissed me off, she was at the top of my list.  That stupid broad had hurt Vincent in a way no man should ever be hurt.  Especially a man with such a big heart.  I gritted my teeth and waited for Vincent to go on, not trusting my big mouth to behave.

“Sh- she needed a place to stay and so I let her in.  She was just as beautiful as I had remembered and we,” Vincent’s voice broke off, and when I looked over at him, I saw that his face was nearly as red as his raggedy old cape.  In any other such circumstance I would have found that adorable, but now it only made me angry.  That nasty old green monster raising its head and hissing in my ear fit to explode my brain.  _Calm down old man_ , I thought, _th’ bitch is dead.  Don’t let ‘er do this to ya._

“I get the picture,” I said, rather surprised at myself for keeping my voice on an even keel.  I wanted to not only spare Vincent from having to tell me what they did, but spare myself from having to hear it.

“I could have forgiven her,” Vincent said, looking down at my hand over his.  He sounded so young right then that I had to look over at him to make sure I was still speaking to the same person.  “I _did_ forgive her.  She had been trapped as well as I-“

Oh shit, I almost said it, almost said, _“yeah, but th’ big difference is she_ volunteered _for her imprisonment ‘n you didn’t.”_ But I didn’t.  Somehow, some way, I managed to keep a cork in it.  But it was hard, _so_ hard!

“But then she changed.  I was lying there, on my back, with her riding me, and she changed… into Hojo.” Vincent said, and I think it’s safe to say that we both experienced a pretty similar surge of bile.  I know _I_ threw up in my mouth a little at the thought.  I can only imagine how Vincent felt.

“I couldn’t move, couldn’t get him off of me.  The feeling of him around my-” Vincent said brokenly, “the image of his-”

“I think we can skip that part, honey,” I said, seriously feeling sick.  I don’t think they made enough brain-bleach to get that image out of my head.  “Y’ made your point.”  I switched hands, covering Vincent’s hands with my other one as the previous hand moved to rub Vincent’s back.  Damn this guy was one tough bastard.  How could you _not_ respect him?

Vincent nodded, his body swaying with each circle I rubbed, and continued. “I looked over and Lucrecia was standing there, watching us.  She was crying.  She told me she loved me.  Then you came in.  You didn’t knock, just barged in with an apology on your lips and Lucrecia… she- she shot you.  With my gun!  I had to ride out an orgasm while I watched you bleed out on the floor.  Then- then Hojo asked her to hand him a knife and the last thing I remember before I wake up is that serrated edge cutting into the flesh of my chest.”

I shut my eyes as I realized just how much pain Vincent must be feeling.  What kind of unholy hell is the love of my life trapped in that he has to relive that, night after fucking night?  It’s no goddam wonder he doesn’t wanna go t’ sleep!

“But that’s not the worst part of it.” Vincent said miserably.  

There’s a _worst part_ to all that?  Shit I thought what he _told_ me was bad enough!  I opened my eyes and looked at Vincent in disbelief.  “What?” I said.  “What could possibly be worse that what ya just told me?”

Vincent turned those haunted, tortured eyes to mine.  “They said I was theirs.  That they owned me, and they’re right.  They do.  I know that the only way that I could have kept you safe was to keep you a secret.  I had to _feel_ the pain to know that I existed because there was no way a creature like me could feel pleasure and it be real.”

My god, he believed it.  He really, truly believed it.  I honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.  My hand stopped rubbing and I pulled the other one back from Vincent’s as I turned to face him.  I won’t lie.  My heart shattered into a million tiny pieces when I saw, really, _truly_ saw the broken man in front of me.  I had never seen him as a thing, a creature, a monster, and it was still the same way now.  But at that moment I saw _more_.  I saw a man, a simple, kindhearted, honorable man, scarred by horrible things done to his body, traitorous things done to his heart and abject cruelty done to his mind, and I felt love.  Nothing more complicated than that.  I felt a love borne of respect, powerful fucking respect, and friendship, and comradery and something more that I just didn’t have any words for. 

“Honey-” I said then fell quiet again.  How did you say anything to all that?  Without making a fool out of you or him?  I opted instead to lean forward and kiss him.  His lips were dry, but they were warm and soft.  His mouth didn’t yield to mine though, and I knew then that he needed words, too.  I pulled back a little ways and reached up to frame that beautiful, cherished face with my beat-up old scarred hands. 

“Vincent,” I said softly.  “It’s just a dream ‘n I ain’t sayin’ it out of disrespect and I ain’t sayin’ that I don’t believe ya, but that’s all it is.”  I dropped one hand to cover his heart.  “What does this feel?  Right now?  Don’t think about a pretty answer, just spill it.”

“Pain,” Vincent replied immediately and his voice shook.  “It hurts, Cid.  It hasn’t stopped hurting since Cloud woke me up.”

“Then you’ve been ‘real’ a pretty long damn time, don’t’cha think?” I asked carefully.  It was so easy for Vincent to draw the wrong conclusion.  “Wanna know what I think?”  I finally asked after a minute or so of silence.

Vincent’s only reply was to raise his eyebrows.

“I think you’ve done yer time,” I said.  “I think it’s time t’let ‘em go.  They’re dead, both of ‘em.  Th’ only way they’re livin’ is because you won’t let ‘em go, and it’s _time_.  You’re human, Vincent, ‘n a man can feel other things besides pain.  Wanna know what one o’ them yuppies at Cosmo Canyon told me when we were runnin’ around the planet trying t’ save it?  He said that the only way a curse can hurt’cha is if ya believe in it ‘n I figure ghosts‘re th’same way.  If you believe they can hurt’cha, then they will.  I don’t believe in ‘em, ‘specially not those two, ‘n they ain’t gonna hurt this ol’ captain.  Even if you _do_ believe in ‘em.  I love you Vincent.  That’s what _I_ believe.”  You don't belong to them, I thought, you belong to  _me_ now.  I sure as hell didn't say that, but you can be  _damn_ sure I thought it.

“But Cid, I-“

I wouldn’t let him go there.  Vincent tended to get stuck there when he did.  “It ain’t gonna happen all at once.  It’s somethin’ y’ gotta work at, ‘n that’s why _I’m_ here.  Lemme share some ‘o that burden ‘till it ain’t s’heavy anymore.  Let it become a memory.  Here-“

I climbed to my feet and held out my hand.  Vincent looked at me, then at my hand, then back at my face again.  “What are you doing?”

“I figure it’s never too late t’ start.” I said with a grin.

“Start what?” The confusion on Vincent’s face was… yep, adorable.  I loved that expression.

“Livin’,” I said simply.

“Living.” Vincent said slowly as though testing out the word, the thought, the sheer concept.  Adorable.

“Yup, livin’, ‘n I know just how to start,” my grin widened.

“How?” Vincent blinked, reaching up to take my hand, completely trusting.  Once the gunman was on his feet I pulled him against me and was rewarded by feeling his body yield to mine, pressing close with one of Vincent’s arms going around my waist. 

I kissed him.  I couldn’t help it, and this time Vincent kissed me back, and I could feel the heat there, buried though it was, and I was determined to get it out and coax it into a full-blown fucking bonfire.  I was stubborn like that.

“Pleasure,” I growled against his lips, one of my hands finding Vincent’s very, _very_ appealing backside.  “Lots and lots of pleasure.”

Vincent’s genuine chuckle was all the reward I needed.  _Now,_ I was the richest sonofabitch on the planet.  Taking Vincent’s hand, I led him inside and shut the door with my foot.  I was going to show Vincent how much I loved him and I was determined to bury those ghosts once and for all, and what’d’ya know?

I did.

Huh, well I’ll be dammed, lookee there the landing gear still works.

 

_~Fin_


End file.
